


the perils of serotonin deprivation

by gothzabini (girl412)



Series: guinea pigs & boys in love [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Depression, Gen, Pre-Slash, guinea pigs, i think that's the right tag?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14810964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl412/pseuds/gothzabini
Summary: Albus's depression won't leave him alone, but Slytherins are known for their self-preservation, if nothing else.





	the perils of serotonin deprivation

**Author's Note:**

> this is exactly what the summary and tags suggest it is, an Albus-centric fic about depression ft. cinnamon roll Scorpius Malfoy and a good number of guinea pigs. It's not too graphic in its descriptions and analysis, or at least I hope it isn't. this doesn't deal with any of the heavier depression stuff like self-harm or suicide, and hopefully won't trigger anyone. imo it's even sort of fluffy. That said, you know your triggers better than I do so take care of yourself!!

The guinea pigs scurried around, running in circles. Albus leant forward, watching them. Something about the sight calmed him- the way they seemed alive and real, the way they curled up against him when he held them in his hands, the brightness of their eyes. He leant against the cage they were in, closing his eyes and smiling as one of them pawed against his face gently. It was a good time to be alive. 

 

Sometimes, in moments like this, he could forget how miserable he really was. 

 

There was something invasive about sadness like that, something that settled inside him and claimed him, made itself a part of his identity. Albus couldn't think of adolescence without thinking of the sadness, the nights when he couldn't sleep, the loneliness and the oddly firm notion that nobody would understand him. 

 

One of the guinea pigs squealed, and Albus smiled, opening his eyes. It was a good reason to stay alive. 

 

Scorpius was watching him from the corner of the room, he knew that. Scorpius, his best friend, who didn’t understand what it was like, but was trying his best. Scorpius, who smiled at him gently, his eyes always kind. Scorpius, who never ran out of candy and sugary sweets, but ate weirdly healthy food as well, opting to eat a mixture of yoghurt and muesli on the nights they stayed up talking. Scorpius, who cried when they watched Disney movies and then denied it later. He was one of a kind, and Albus always wondered at the miracle that was their friendship.

 

It wasn’t insecurity that drove him to voice the question aloud, instead it was the thought that Scorpius could do so much better. Naturally smart, kind, gentle, thoughtful and considerate; Scorpius was the sort of person who ought to be adored by everyone, not just Albus.

 

“You’re brooding again,” Scorpius said from where he was standing, his eyes still focused on Albus. It was more gentle and patient than it had been at first. Scorpius had learnt so much and come such a long way in trying to be the most supportive friend Al could get. From the initial anguished loneliness spent in the common room, Scorpius saying with genuine confusion in his eyes, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean by that,” he’d evolved into someone more understanding of the depth of the sadness, usually gently probing, saying things like “it’s okay if you can’t get out of bed today, I know you’re trying,” and “I’m proud of you for making it through the day.” 

 

Everything Albus wanted to say lingered on the tip of his tongue. _I want to get better. I’m sorry you have to deal with me. You deserve more than this. Aren’t guinea pigs adorable? Today would be a nice day to spend outside but I don’t think I have the energy for that_. And maybe, somewhere, in an unquiet and unceasing buzz, _I’m bisexual, and I know we’re too young to tell, but I think I’m in love with you._

 

But what was the point being in love with someone if you barely had the energy to function normally? Rose was always going on and on about it, about how love was demonstrative and therefore flattery never worked on her. Albus had heard that too many times to believe that Scorpius would want to be with someone whose sole reason for living was the cuteness of guinea pigs. 

 

Well, maybe not always. It was hard enough making it through each day, but there were things that were worth staying alive for- guinea pigs, his supportive family, his friendship with Scorpius, Greg’s cakes and bingo nights with Narcissa, the MCR album Lily had gotten him last Christmas that had changed his life forever, ice-cream shops - 

 

Scorpius was walking up to him, slightly concerned. The boots Albus had given him made rhythmic thud noises as he walked, echoing slightly in the otherwise empty Muggle Studies classroom. Albus smiled, closing his eyes. _I did that. I gave him those boots._ The knowledge of that made him feel more solid, more real - like he had a place in the world that nobody else could fill. 

 

“It’s not a good day, is it?” Scorpius asked, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. 

 

 _Is it ever a good day?_ Albus blinked, turning to face Scorpius. “No, it isn’t, not really. But you make it better,” he said, pulling his best friend into a hug. Scorpius reacted like it was a reflex, wrapping his arms around Albus and holding him firmly but not painfully tightly. 

 

“I wish there were more things I could do to help you,” Scorpius murmured, and then softer, so that Albus barely heard it: “I love you so much.”

 

It was probably platonic, Albus figured, closing his eyes. He said, softly but firmly, “You’re doing enough.” 

 

“Tell me if there’s anything you need from me,” Scorpius murmured. “Anything.” 

 

“Well, you could convince Mum to let me have a guinea pig as a pet,” Albus said, and he heard the smile in Scorpius’s voice as he said, “It’s a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's so much I want to say about this fic! even though it's not very long, it took me a long time to complete. Most of these descriptions and thoughts are based off real life experiences, but that said, mental illness is different for everyone and this is by no means the only representation. Depression is also not an ~aesthetic~, it's serious and heavy and overwhelming, and if you know someone who’s fighting it, learn how to support them. If you are struggling with depression, take care of yourself, get help, and remember that there _are_ people who care about you. I care! no, really. you got this far, you’re here today  & that’s a testament to your resilience. i believe in you.
> 
> “bingo nights with Narcissa” is a reference to [ this lovely fic ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14069382%20), and I don’t remember who first came up with the concept of Baker!Greg but i daresay that it has become a trope of sorts now. I know it was someone in the drarry squad and Uh if anyone knows who it was, tell me and i will credit them (I will probably also flood their DMs with appreciation for this beautiful, beautiful concept.) 
> 
> also uhhhh i Live for the "oblivious potter boys" trope, can you tell? 
> 
> [ hmu @ my tumblr if you want to talk or say hi, ](https://gothzabini.tumblr.com/) and uhhhh for those of you who follow it.... i know. i’ve completely ignored my to-do list and i am Not even sorry. i’m still here creating content though!!
> 
>  
> 
> PS: (whispers) would anyone want a sequel or a Scorpius POV to this?


End file.
